


Writhe

by HidingInYourShadow



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Monsterfucking, Other, Raped by Monsters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:13:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24951373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HidingInYourShadow/pseuds/HidingInYourShadow
Summary: Unfortunately, things can always, always get worse.
Relationships: Leon S. Kennedy/Rasklapanjes
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11
Collections: Nonconathon 2020





	Writhe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Silex](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silex/gifts).



Leon swore under his breath as he reloaded his gun. He was almost completely out of ammo. Actually, he was running dangerously low on supplies in general – he needed to be taking as few risks as possible, all while dealing with these damned unkillable B.O.W.s.

He froze as he heard a sound from deeper into the alleyway. It was barely audible, just a soft scuttling. It might have only been a rat, but he crept cautiously forward anyway, scouring the shadows for any signs of movement.

There – a small pile of discarded boxes, which shifted ever so slightly as he heard it again.

But as he took another step forward there was a sudden scraping sound from above him, and he just barely managed to roll to the side before the blackened, misshapen form jumped down on top of him. Unfortunately, he wasn’t quite fast enough, and it grabbed at his ankle, tripping him as he tried to get to his feet.

“Shit!” He kicked it in the head with his other foot. It let go, shrieking as its skull caved in with a sickening squelch.

(He knew that wouldn’t be enough to stop it – and even if it was, the damn thing would just reanimate shortly, anyway.)

He made to run, but just as soon as he’d jumped to his feet, a pair of shriveled, dismembered hands sprung out from the piled boxes.

One landed on his chest, scrabbling quickly up to his face, but the other aimed lower, skittering up his thigh until it latched onto his crotch, kneading in a way that made his legs nearly give out. He shuddered violently, giving a disgusted shout as he pried them off and threw them against the wall.

He didn’t have any time to recover before he heard something shuffling, and spun to see another of the things right behind him. It moved too fast for him to react, and he found himself swung around and slammed face-first into a wall. It pressed itself against his back, and began rutting mindlessly against him, moaning into his hair.

(He tried desperately not to think about that last part. It would be nothing but a distraction, he insisted, and he _could not afford distractions_.)

With a disgusted curse, he twisted around to thrust his elbow into its side, dislodging it. It took far too many shots before it fell to the ground, shriveling into an unmoving husk with one final shriek. He’d already jumped over it before it even stopped spasming, trying to make a break for it before they had him even more cornered.

But then the first one lunged at him from behind, sending them both tumbling across the rough pavement. After a brief struggle, Leon managed to throw it off, scrambling back to his feet.

He’d only just barely made it to his knees, though, when his arms were grabbed from behind, wrenching him over backwards into a painful arch, making him let out a gasping cry. It latched its mouth onto the crook of his neck. He supposed he should be grateful the thing didn’t seem to have any teeth left, but then it began mouthing its way upward, over his jawline and to his ear, and his breath hitched.

He struggled harder to free himself from its grasp, but it was unfortunately far stronger than it looked. He had no leverage, and from this position it was impossible to get his feet under himself properly.

(He still had his gun in hand. How many shots were left? Few enough that he couldn’t afford to just fire blindly –)

He started as something skittered over his thigh and to his hip, but was unable to move so he could see it. His clothes were tugged and pulled at, and he only just had time to realize that it was one of those damned hands before it crawled its way under his shirt.

It pulled itself up slowly, pressed tightly against his skin by his own clothing. The fingers were a sharp chill tickling and squirming up his stomach, making him shudder. But then the rest of it finished slipping under, and that dismembered wrist was hot, almost burningly so – and he could clearly feel how that torn end absolutely _writhed_ with parasites.

(Beneath the sharply rising panic, Leon still noticed when the one he’d shot shuddered back into motion and split itself in two.)

The monster behind him let out loose a moaning shriek directly into his ear. Hot, fetid stench rolled across his face; the thing didn’t actually breathe, not anymore, but the smell emanating from that gaping, lipless mouth was overpowering, from the putrefying, writhing mass inside it.

The legs were in front of him, now, shambling awkwardly forward. Its waist was still wriggling spastically from the separation, with dangling entrails and misshapen, unidentifiable tags of flesh.

The torso had crawled its way over, as well, and he could feel it attempting to scale the side of his body. It braced the stump of its right arm against the crease of his hip, reaching up to grab his hair in the remaining hand.

His head was yanked sharply back, then wrenched forward into the abomination’s crotch. He clenched his teeth, eyes screwed shut, as it leaned its weight into him, rubbing itself off against his face. Horrified and disgusted, he struggled to escape with renewed vigor.

(On some level he knew this wasn’t working, that he was just wasting his strength, but he just couldn’t stay still, accept this and just _wait_ for an opening –)

Then the dismembered hand slipped out from the collar of his shirt and wrapped its fingers around his neck.

At first it almost felt like a caress, feather-light and tickling in a way that was still so horrifying it nearly made him sob. But then it _squeezed_ , so suddenly and so tightly that he couldn’t breathe at all.

(So tightly that he was briefly terrified it would actually crush his throat –)

Leon’s mouth instinctively gaped open, gasping for air that wouldn’t come, and a thick intruder shoved its way inside. On its own, the sudden overpowering taste of rot nearly made him pass out, eyes watering. He let out a muffled shout, and it twitched and wriggled in a completely inhuman way as it pressed against his tongue.

(The half-hysterical thought passed that he wasn’t even sure it was technically a cock at all.)

The hand choking him let go, then, squirming its way back into his shirt. Still gumming at his ear, the one holding his arms shifted him more upright, into a more convenient position for the legs that were – 

(– currently _fucking his mouth_ , and Leon’s mind was almost blank with horror now –)

The torso was nuzzling its face into his shoulder as it used the hand twisted in his hair to forcefully rock his head forward and back, taking the monstrous cock of its lower half deeper and deeper each time.

He convulsively swallowed, and it throbbed in response, still gliding slickly across his tongue. The hand moving him never once faltered in its horrific, thrusting rhythm, not even when the cock hit into the back of his throat, making him sputter and choke helplessly. He could feel it swelling, engorged with something he didn’t even want to think about.

(And, oh, he actually _wished_ he could believe it was semen that would spill from it as it came.

In the back of his mind a part of him screamed to bite down, to _get it out_ – and another part remembered just how easily these things split apart, and knew that would make everything unimaginably worse.)

His breath hitched as the hand wandering beneath his shirt found its way to one of his breasts.

It paused for a moment after that brush of the nub, then pressed down, slowly rubbing harder and harder. Then far too soon all its fingers were focused on that one spot, pinching and tweaking and scratching with jagged fingernails, and all he could do was whimper as bolts of unwelcome heat shot straight to his groin.

His struggles had been growing weaker, sluggish, exhaustion taking its toll, and his ability to think was damn near shattered.

But through the haze, he still noticed when the one behind him had let go of his wrists.

It was already reaching forward to wrap around his chest. His thoughts coalesced all too slowly, still overwhelmed by panic, but he despite that he still managed to get his gun into position and fire.

The B.O.W. fell backwards away from him, its piercing shriek ringing straight into his ear. But he only got off two shots before the gun clicked empty, and shit, that wasn’t anywhere near enough –

The legs stumbled away at the commotion, pulling out of his mouth in the process. But he didn’t even have a moment to feel relief before the torso yanked him down by the hair, slamming the back of his head into the pavement.

White-hot static filled his senses, and when awareness began to seep back in it was to the feel of one of them crawling over his face and down his body.

(He tried to swipe at it but he was still too dazed, and his arms refused to move properly.)

And then hands were tugging harshly at his pants, uncoordinated but with tearing strength, and he swore hotly as he suddenly felt chill air against his skin.

He twisted and bucked, trying everything he could to throw them off. There was a moment when he even thought he had succeeded, only to find his right arm being grabbed and pulled back down to the ground.

His left was still free, though, and he immediately rolled to swing at the thing holding him – the legless torso. But before he could make contact, the first one was already on him again, grabbing his left wrist and dragging flat onto his back once more.

(And through all this, the hand toying viciously with his nipple never once ceased its own ministrations, held firmly in place by the armored vest he wore.)

Leon continued to struggle, pulling and thrashing and kicking against the ground to try to shove himself backwards away from them, chest heaving.

It all proved futile.

The one to left moved so it was sitting on his arm and began to grind its crotch against him, letting out a horrid moan. He turned his face away in humiliation and disgust.

But then he heard that sickening squelch and spun back to see it pulling itself apart at the waist, even as its lower half never once stopped thrusting. It dragged itself down towards his legs, and as that gaping maw bent down to engulf his cock a litany of curses hissed from between his gritted teeth, tears of frustration and despair pricking at his eyes.

But then the other leaned over his face, placing its mouth over his like a demented parody of a kiss. His weakened resistance meant nothing to it, and what entered bore no resemblance to a tongue as far as he could feel, thick and writhing, filling every corner of his mouth with twitching heat and shoving deep within his throat.

He choked, but his struggles were meaninglessly weak now, and a horrifically calm acceptance began to set in – that there was nothing at all he could do to escape, nothing but to simply wait for it to be over.

Until gradually, one by one, they began to pull away, apparently satiated, and in search of other prey. They simply left him there, done with him, but he wasn’t dead.

( _Why…?_ )

It felt like an eternity before Leon finally managed to crawl shakily to his knees, and yet nothing attacked him that entire time.

And somehow that was the most terrifying part of all.


End file.
